Fate of the Crown

By Paul J Bennett

From lonely little girl... to the people's princess.

She is the last hope of a kingdom crushed under the heel of tyranny.

At first alone in the world, everything changed the day she met Gerald; once a forgotten old warrior, now the General of her army.

With the aid of those willing to sacrifice their lives for the cause of good, she prepares to wage war against her brother, a king more corrupt than even her dead father.
All her life has led up to this.

Now, they seek to unite the ancient races in a desperate race to win the crown before the Dark Queen enslaves them all.

Fate of the Crown is the fifth book in the Heir to the Crown medieval fantasy series. If you like unexpected twists, chuckling under your breath, and shedding the occasional tear, then you will love Paul J Bennett's tale of a princess who fights for her people.

Seize your copy of Fate of the Crown, and watch the war unfold!

New to the series? Meet Gerald Matheson, the steadfast warrior in ‘Heir to the Crown: Book One, Servant of the Crown’, available in eBook & paperback.

Other books by Paul J Bennett

Heir to the Crown series:
Servant of the Crown
Sword of the Crown
Mercerian Tales: Stories of the Past
Heart of the Crown
Shadow of the Crown
Mercerian Tales: The Call of Magic (Summer 2019)
Fate of the Crown
Burden of the Crown (Autumn 2019)
Mercerian Tales: The making of a Man (Autumn 2019)
Defender of the Crown (Winter 2019)
Fury of the Crown: (Spring 2020)
Mercerian Tales: Honour Thy Ancestors (Summer 2020)

The Frozen Flame Series:
Into the Fire: Athgar's Prequel (Summer 2019)
The Awakening: Natalia's Prequel (Summer 2019)
Ashes (Summer 2019)
Embers (Winter 2019)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Paul J Bennett
• Release date: Jun 14, 2019
• ISBN: 9781989315064

Paul J Bennett

Paul J Bennett (b. 1961) emigrated from England to Canada in 1967. His father served in the British Royal Navy, and his mother worked for the BBC in London. As a young man, Paul followed in his father’s footsteps, joining the Canadian Armed Forces in 1983. He is married to Carol Bennett and has three daughters who are all creative in their own right.Paul’s interest in writing started in his teen years when he discovered the roleplaying game, Dungeons & Dragons (D & D). What attracted him to this new hobby was the creativity it required; the need to create realms, worlds and adventures that pulled the gamers into his stories.In his 30’s, Paul started to dabble in designing his own roleplaying system, using the Peninsular War in Portugal as his backdrop. His regular gaming group were willing victims, er, participants in helping to playtest this new system. A few years later, he added additional settings to his game, including Science Fiction, Post-Apocalyptic, World War II, and the all-important Fantasy Realm where his stories take place.The beginnings of his first book ‘Servant to the Crown’ originated over five years ago when he began running a new fantasy campaign. For the world that the Kingdom of Merceria is in, he ran his adventures like a TV show, with seasons that each had twelve episodes, and an overarching plot. When the campaign ended, he knew all the characters, what they had to accomplish, what needed to happen to move the plot along, and it was this that inspired to sit down to write his first novel.Paul now has four series based in his fantasy world of Eiddenwerthe, and is looking forward to sharing many more books with his readers over the coming years.

Book preview

ONE

Hawksburg

AUTUMN 961 MC* (MERCERIAN CALENDAR)

Lady Aubrey Brandon, daughter of Lord Robert Brandon, Baron of Hawksburg, was bored. She sat on the front step of the manor house, staring down the pathway with all the concentration her seventeen-year-old head could muster. This was, of course, considerable, for beneath this young exterior hid an accomplished wielder of magic.

For more than a year she had travelled with the Royal Life Mage, Revi Bloom, as his apprentice. She had easily mastered her first spell, but now she sat, weary of her studies. It wasn't that she didn't find magic interesting, far from it, but the books Master Bloom had given her had long since ceased to be of interest, a victim of her growing awareness of the magic that resided within her.

She looked down at the book beside her, a treatise on the history of magic, and chuckled to herself. History was fascinating to some but to her, life was all about the here and now, the harnessing of arcane power. She thought back to Weldwyn; there, at least, she had managed to cast her first spell, that of healing the flesh. It had been put to good use, for during the siege of Riversend she had been called upon to use her spells to help the brave defenders of the city.

The sound of a carriage caught her attention, and she looked up to see a familiar sight coming down the lane. It seemed her father had returned early from Wincaster. She stood, her mind no longer occupied by stray thoughts and focused on his arrival. Tomlinson, the old coachman, was covered in dust and dirt, the carriage likewise filthy. Her father must have been in a hurry to return, and yet his duties in the capital typically kept him busy well into the winter months.

The carriage pulled up, and she moved forward to open the door, only to see her father preparing to exit.

Father, she said, what a pleasant surprise. We weren't expecting you back until the midwinter feast.

His face broke into a grin, Good to see you too, Aubrey. Go and fetch your mother, will you? I need to speak to both of you right away. Bring her to the drawing room.

She wanted to ask him for more details but saw the look of determination on his face. Something important has happened, she thought, and was suddenly struck with a feeling of dread.

I'll go and get mother immediately, she replied, hurrying away. Her mother, as usual, was easy to find. She would often sit in the library in the late afternoon and today was no exception. Mother, she announced, Father has arrived from Wincaster.

Lady Mary Brandon rose to her feet, setting down her book. Something must be wrong, she said. He usually sends word when he is returning.

He wants to see us in the drawing room.

Go and find your brothers, her mother said.

I think he wants just the two of us, replied Aubrey.

Very well, let us see what news he brings.

They made their way to the appointed room to find Lord Robert in his chair. He had discarded his cloak, dropping it to the floor and was just removing his boots as they entered.

Robert, asked Lady Mary, whatever is the matter?

Come, sit down, my love. I'm afraid there have been some...developments in Wincaster.

You're worrying me, Robert. Tell me everything is fine.

The baron waited while Lady Mary and Aubrey sat, his face a mask of concern. As well you know, he began, I have, for years, been tasked with running the Royal Estates. As such, I have been working at the Palace diligently, but I fear that under our new king, I can no longer carry out this duty.

Why ever not, Robert? asked his wife. Surely the task is not so onerous?

I'm afraid events in the capital have spiralled out of control.

How so, Father?

It seems King Henry has seen fit to arrest and execute Princess Anna and her people. He waited, watching their faces as the news sank in.

Cousin Beverly! cried out Aubrey.

I'm afraid so, he replied. Word is that all the Knights of the Hound have been executed for treason. I've no doubt that Baron Fitzwilliam will be arrested as well. I suspect that even as we speak, a delegation is being sent to Bodden.

Uncle Richard would never conspire against the king, declared Aubrey. Surely there's a mistake?

I'm afraid not, Aubrey. While King Andred might have been willing to accept the queen's bastard child, it appears his heir, King Henry, is not.

Is Aubrey in danger? asked Lady Mary.

I hope not, said the baron. Before I left my position I used my privilege to search through the Royal records. Any record of her working for the Royal Mage has been purged. There is nothing left to link her to the conspirators.

What if someone confessed? asked Lady Mary, her voice rising in pitch. She could be arrested.

Fear not, my love. If they had made that connection, she would already be in the dungeons beneath the Palace. I have managed to see the so-called 'confessions' that were said to have been extracted from the prisoners; they are nothing but flights of fancy.

None of the knights would confess, defended Aubrey. I knew them all, and they were honourable to a fault.

It matters not to the king, explained the baron. He has fabricated these confessions to suit his own purpose. Our primary concern now is to keep you safe.

Me? said Aubrey in alarm. Why?

You are a Life Mage, he continued, perhaps the last in the kingdom, for it is said that Revi Bloom has been implicated in the plot. We must ensure your power remains hidden, for all our sakes.

But I cannot give up magic, she protested.

Nor would I want you to, he responded, but we must find somewhere safe for you to practice, out of sight of prying eyes.

What about the old manor? interjected Lady Mary.

I hadn't thought of that, replied the baron.

You mean that old building behind the estate? said Aubrey. I thought it was unsafe.

It is run down, agreed her father, but I'm sure with a little work it would suit your purposes. It hasn't been used since the days of your great-grandparents. It was too small to house their growing family, that's why my grandfather built the manor in which we now live.

So I'm to be hidden away? asked Aubrey.

No, dear, said her mother, you would still live here, but use the old house to practice your magic. After all, you don't need much in the way of furnishings to cast spells. If anything, you want fewer things to break.

I don't break things when I cast, Mother.

I know, dear, I'm just teasing you.

It would require some work to prepare it, I should think, her father interrupted. I'd rather not involve the servants, so we'll have to keep this to ourselves.

What about Tristan and Samuel? asked Aubrey.

I think it best that your brothers not know of this.

But they know I can cast magic.

That's all well and good, but let it appear that your interest has waned. You'll need to explain your absences while you study. I would suggest you go riding a lot as a cover.

Fair enough, said Aubrey, then fell into silence.

Her father saw her struggling with something, What is it, Aubrey?

Cousin Beverly, she confessed. I can't bear the thought of them torturing her.

I didn't say they tortured her, said the baron.

I'm not a child, Father. I've heard what happens in the dungeons of Wincaster.

I'm sorry, Aubrey, but there's little I can do about the past. I would send word to your Uncle Richard, but the King's Rangers might intercept it. I fear that I have become a target of interest to them and must tread carefully.

Why would the rangers do that? asked Lady Mary. Surely their job is to keep the roads safe?

Lord Robert looked at his wife with sorrowful eyes. Much has changed in recent years, my love. The rangers now act as the king's eyes and ears. Of late, the roads have become much more dangerous for those who oppose the king.

Are we in danger, Robert?

The baron forced a smile, Not for now, but we must be vigilant. We must be seen to support the king in all things, or we shall draw further attention to ourselves. He saw the look of despair on his family's faces. Now, let us turn our attention to the old manor house. Shall we go and have a look?

---

Aubrey stood in the large foyer that dominated the entrance to the old building. The room was dusty, with cobwebs covering the corners.

Where do we start? she wondered out loud.

I would think the library might be the best place, her father answered. It's likely to be a small room. At least that way we'll feel like we're making progress.

Aubrey glanced through an open door. Judging by the bookshelves, I'd say that it's over there, she said, pointing.

Let's go and have a look, shall we? he said.

They wandered through the doorway, and she was instantly impressed by the decor of the room. It's so cozy in here, though it's a little cold.

I wouldn't go using the fireplace just yet, her father warned, the chimney is likely clogged up. This place hasn't been used in decades.

What were they like? she asked. My great-grandparents, I mean.

I didn't know your great-grandfather, he died before I was born, but your great-grandmother was an interesting one.

And by interesting, you mean?

I think the word I'm looking for is eccentric, he said. She was a strong-willed woman, wouldn't take no for an answer. Even after they built the new manor house, she refused to move into it. She spent her last years here.

What was her name? Aubrey asked. I've never heard you speak of her.

Her name was Juliana, her father replied, though I've forgotten her maiden name. She was always 'Nan' to me.

And this was her only home?

Yes, she took great pride in it. All the furnishings and decorations were hers. My grandfather didn't care two twigs for such things.

Aubrey wandered over to the bookshelf that occupied the north wall. I never realized there were so many books here.

Yes, Nan was an avid reader, just like you.

She carefully withdrew a book, glancing at its spine. This is a book of poetry by Califax, she remarked. I thought he wrote plays.

He did, responded her father, but like all great artists he did so much more.

She flipped the pages, stopping as she saw the title page. It's signed, she said in astonishment.

She must have purchased it that way, he said. Califax lived long before Nan.

True enough, she said, returning the book to its position on the shelf. No sooner had she placed it, then the shelf collapsed, the wooden structure breaking beneath the weight of the books. Aubrey jumped back in alarm, casting an embarrassed look towards her father.

The wood's likely dried out and rotten, he explained. I'm surprised it's lasted this long. Let's move the books over here; we'll pile them against the wall for now. The bookshelf will need to be repaired eventually, perhaps even replaced.

Aubrey began removing tomes, carrying them across the room and laying them in careful stacks on the dusty floor. She returned to the shelf, grabbing another armful.

What's this? said her father.

What's what?

I think I might have discovered something, he said.

She set her armload down, coming to see what her father had found.

He knocked on the back of the shelf. What do you hear? he asked.

It sounds hollow. Do you think there's something behind it?

There's only one way to find out, he said, grinning.

They quickly removed the remaining books and began examining the shelf in more detail.

There must be a lever or something to open it, she said.

The baron felt around the edge. He ran his fingers across the top of the shelf and paused, I've found a latch of some sorts. I can just feel it with my fingers, hang on a moment. He moved across the room, singling out a chair to drag across to the bookshelf and stand on. Ah, I see now, a rather simple latch.

She watched as he fiddled with something on the top and then they heard a clicking sound. You seem to have done it, she said.

He hopped down from his perch, pulling the chair out of the way. I should think we could swing this out now, he said, pulling on one of the shelves. It moved forward a fingers breadth, hinged on one side. It appears to be stuck, he announced.

Let me give you a hand, she offered, grabbing the end of the structure. As they both pulled, the shelf swung outward.

Aubrey turned her attention to what lay behind, There's a narrow staircase that leads down. She poked her head through the opening to see where it led. It looks like there's a room beneath the library.

Let me fetch a lantern, he said, and we'll take a look.

Don't bother, she replied, I've a better idea.

She started uttering an incantation and a moment later a small ball of light floated just above her palm.

Remarkable, said her father, I thought you were just a Life Mage.

There's more to Life Magic than just the healing, said Aubrey defensively. The orb of light is a universal spell.

The baron shook his head, I have no idea what you're talking about.

Universal spells can be cast by any mage, regardless of their school.

What do you mean by school? he asked. I thought you were taught by the Royal Life Mage.

Aubrey let out a laugh, I was, Father. A school is a particular way of looking at magic. Surely you've heard of the elements?

You mean earth, fire, water and so on? Of course.

Those are the elemental schools. An Earth Mage could never call forth fire, nor could a Fire Mage control nature.

And what about Life Magic?

Outside of the elements, there are four additional schools, she continued, life, enchantments and of course the forbidden arts of death and hex magic.

And so you're saying any school could use this orb of light?

If they learned how to cast it, yes, she said, eager to share her knowledge.

Interesting, but perhaps we should save this discussion for later. We have more pressing business.

What business is that? she asked.

Don't you want to see what's at the bottom of those stairs?

Oh, of course, she said. Sorry, I was so engrossed in the discussion.

Just like your mother, he beamed. Now, lead on, Aubrey. You're the one with the glowing ball of light.

She returned her attention to the stairs and concentrated on the light. It drifted from her hands, floating down the stairs as she watched. She began to descend, the orb illuminating the way.

The stairs ended at a dirt floor. To the side, directly under the library, was a brick-lined room, matching the dimensions of the space above. There was little here in the way of furniture, however, save for a lectern in the centre which held a large tome, and a worktable and chair that lay against the north wall.

What do you see? called down her father.

A rather bare room, she replied, but with a book taking a place of honour in the middle.

The sound of her father coming down interrupted her perusal. She moved into the centre, allowing him access as she examined the lectern. The book was closed, so she floated the light over it to study it in more detail. It was leather bound, with metal clasps holding the pages together. She carefully reached out and turned to a random page, her eyes confirming what she already suspected. It's a book of magic, she said, awe filling her voice.

Magic? Are you sure?

She waved him over, pointing to the page she had revealed. This is just handwriting, she explained, but this, she stabbed down with her finger, is a magic rune, part of the magical alphabet.

I've heard you mention that before, he said. It's a universal language, isn't it?

Yes, that's right. It's the same in every tongue.

Are you saying your great-grandmother was a mage?

I don't know yet, I'd have to read through this. It may just be random notes about magic.

Lord Robert smiled at his daughter's interest, I'd say it's more likely she used magic. It seems she went to a lot of trouble to create this room. Why do so just for a book about magic? No, I think she must have been a mage, though why she didn't tell anyone is an absolute mystery to me.

Perhaps the book can tell us more, she said.

Well, I would suggest you get busy. It looks like it'll be a long read, even for you.

What about the mess upstairs? she asked.

Don't worry about that, he answered in reply. I'm sure this room is fine for your practice, now that I look at it. You study the book, I'll go and fetch us some food. I have a feeling we're not going to pry you from that, he pointed at the book, until you've found your answers.

---

By the time the first flakes of winter arrived, Aubrey had studied the book in great detail. Now she stood before it, ready to resume practicing her spells. Setting the lantern on the table, she then moved to the dead centre of the room, by the lectern, to begin the incantation that would produce her customary orb of light.

The familiar words came quickly to her while she held out her hand for the glowing sphere to appear. As the last word tumbled out of her mouth, the customary ball of light burst forth, but far brighter than she had ever experienced before. She jumped back in surprise. With her mental concentration broken, the orb disappeared, returning her to the dim light of the lantern.

She cast her eyes about, but the room held no surprises, at least not that she could see. Perhaps, she thought, she had merely made a mistake in casting. She steadied her nerves and began the process anew, careful to use the correct pronunciation.

The orb reappeared, once more with a brilliant light. This time Aubrey didn't flinch, but instead, looked around the room yet again, trying to ascertain what was affecting her spell. Her eyes fell to the table. She had often sat there perusing the great tome and she wondered if perhaps it held something, for it was the only explanation she could think of. She had examined the lectern in great detail and the chair was nought but a simple wooden construction, incapable of hiding anything.

She kept the orb suspended and made her way to the table, intent on finding its secrets. She examined the top, the sides, even going so far as to crawl underneath it and inspect the underside, but to no avail. She sat down, once more looking about the room. It must have been some time, for she suddenly found herself in darkness, her spell expired. She recast the glowing orb, only to notice the light was dimmer, rather than the brightness she had come to expect. She glanced back to the lectern; had she missed something?

Returning to the centre of the room, she cast again, the orb once again blazing. She wished, not for the last time, that Master Bloom was here to explain things to her, but then grew stubborn. She knew she was well-educated; surely there must be some way to figure this out! She decided to move the lectern, to see if placing it near the table made any difference.

The wooden structure was too heavy to simply push upright, so she moved the book of magic to the table and then tipped the lectern, in order to drag it. What she discovered surprised her, for stone could be seen beneath its base. She stared down, not quite believing her eyes. Placing the stand back to its original position, she knelt, digging through the dirt floor with her hands. A moment later, a stone floor was revealed.

She sat up in surprise. Was the entire floor made of stone? Intending to find out, she rushed from the room to look for a shovel.

---

By the end of the day, she stood gazing down at the newly revealed floor. Made of carefully fitted grey stone, the real prize was the embellishments, for now, with the dirt removed, she saw the magic circle that had been hidden all this time.

She had read about magic circles, of course, but never had she seen one in person. It took up most of the floor, save for the north wall where the table sat, along with heaps of the newly displaced dirt. It was actually two circles, a smaller one within a larger, with runes of power that embellished the space between them. These circles, she knew, amplified the effects of spells cast within, enabling the caster to unleash greater power.

The sound of a distant voice interrupted her thoughts. In her desire to unearth this treasure she had lost track of time, and now her name was being called out, likely summoning her to dinner. She looked down at her hands, filthy from her work. The task of carting out the dirt would have to wait. For now, she must return to the manor and play the part of the disinterested daughter.

TWO

Bodden

WINTER 961/962 MC

Athin blanket of snow had settled over the land, giving it a peaceful look as Baron Richard Fitzwilliam stared out the window from his beloved map room. His thoughts were interrupted by Sir Gareth.

How long till they come, Lord?

Fitz turned from the windows, Oh, I expect it will be some time, yet. It's unlikely they'd bring a siege to Bodden in the winter. How are the defences going?

They are going well, Lord. The new ditch is complete, and we've reinforced the main gate. When they finally do arrive, we'll give them a fight worthy of the trip to the Afterlife.

Good, said Fitz, and the training?

All able-bodied men are training hard. A lot of the women wanted to help too, Lord, so we've got them learning to use the bow.

I shudder to think of the loss of life a siege will bring, said Fitz.

They have given us little choice, Gareth reminded him.

Approaching footsteps drew their attention as a woman entered the room.

Lady Albreda, said Fitz, good to see you.

Richard, Sir Gareth, she replied, nodding in greeting, I come bearing news.

Which is? asked the baron.

A group of riders approaches from the east. I've had them under observation for some time.

The baron looked to Sir Gareth in alarm, then returned his gaze to Albreda, How many?

Fifty-three, to be precise, she answered.

Rather an unusual number, he replied.

They'll have a hard time sieging us with so few, offered Sir Gareth.

Fifty or so men would hardly constitute a threat, the baron mused. Can you tell us anything more about them?

Yes, she said, three of them wear chain with metal plates, so I can only assume they are knights. The rest march on foot, and appear to be soldiers of some type.

Perhaps they're bringing an ultimatum, offered Gareth.

With fifty men and three knights? said Fitz. I hardly think that likely.

Albreda moved to the eastern facing window, If you look to the great elm yonder, they should soon come into view.

Fitz turned his gaze to the window, conscious of the closeness with Albreda. I see them, he said, though I cannot make them out clearly. I wish I were younger; my eyes were so much sharper back then.

Albreda put a hand on his forearm, Your eyes are fine, Richard, I can't make out details, either. They are, indeed, a long way off, but they do not appear to be brandishing weapons. In fact, now that they've cleared the elm, I see they have pack mules following.

Pack mules? said Sir Gareth in disbelief.

Intriguing, said Fitz. I wonder who they might be?

Shall I send out troops, my lord? asked Gareth.

No, let them ride closer. Send for Sir Heward, have him meet us at the gates to Bodden, perhaps he can shed some light on our visitors.

Are we to fight, Lord?

We'll see what they want before I put any of my men in danger. We can talk to them from the gate-tower, but let's take no chances, have the archers man the walls.

Aye, Lord, said Sir Gareth, turning to leave.

Do you think them a danger? asked Albreda.

I have no idea, said Fitz, but I intend to find out.

---

The gate that led into the village of Bodden was guarded by a ditch and drawbridge, a recent addition that Fitz took great pride in. In times past, he had considered such a defence, but the amount of work required was overwhelming. It was Albreda that had supplied the answer, for the Earth Mage had used her magic to move large amounts of dirt, thus creating the ditch.

They kept the drawbridge down, of course, for farmers frequently travelled back and forth, but when the strangers appeared, Fitz had ordered that the portcullis be lowered, blocking any entry. Now, they watched from the tower as the strangers approached. They were still out of bow range when Fitz turned to Sir Heward.

Do you recognize any of them? he asked.

No, Lord. Nor their armour.

Fitz nodded his head in agreement. Armour was very personalized, and many a warrior could be recognized simply from what he wore. I wonder who they are, he mused.

The visitors halted, and two of the knights rode forward while the third waited with the men. As they came within earshot of the gatehouse, they raised their visors, calling out as they did so.

Who commands here? came a suspiciously familiar voice.

I do, answered Fitz. Lord Richard Fitzwilliam, Baron of Bodden.

The two knights looked at each other and then one removed his helmet, riding a little closer. It is I, Sir Rodney, Lord. We have come to serve you.

Sir Rodney? called out Fitz. Surely not, he'd be an old man by now.

I am indeed, Lord, the knight replied, and yet, still able to swing a sword. I bring with me two gallant knights of your acquaintance, Sir James and Sir Randolph.

Saxnor's beard, exclaimed the baron, turning to Heward. Open the gate, I'll go and talk to them.

Is that wise, Lord? said Sir Heward.

Fear not, they are old friends.

Fitz descended the steps while the portcullis was raised. As soon as it was high enough, he ducked under, making his way toward the two knights.

Sir Rodney, he called out, I see that old age has not dampened your spirits.

My lord, Rodney replied, dismounting, it is so good to see you again.

Whatever has brought you to Bodden? asked the baron.

We heard of the rebellion, my lord, and have come to offer our service. We have even brought footmen with us to help in the cause, volunteers all.

You are, of course, welcome here, said Fitz grasping Sir Rodney's hand, though I fear it is likely to be a short rebellion. The king has, no doubt, heard of it by now, and soon an army will come to crush us.

Then let them come, said Rodney, and we'll make a stand that will live forever in the annals of history.

You remember Lady Albreda? asked Fitz, leading them through the gate towards the Keep.

The Witch of the Whitewood? asked Rodney.

I prefer the term ‘Druid’, said Albreda, though mage will do in a pinch.

I meant no disrespect, my lady, said Sir Rodney. You grace us with your presence.

Tell us, Sir Knight, she continued, how did you come to Bodden?

Well, not long ago, all the knights of the realm were summoned to Wincaster. Once we arrived, we were informed that the king was forming an army to march and suppress a rebellion in the north. Questions were asked, and when the king revealed that the baron, here, was guilty in a plot against the crown, the news did not sit well with some of us. The king immediately insisted that all his knights swear fealty to him, but we three left quietly and resolved to bring our men north, to aid Bodden.

Did you see any sign of the royal army on your march north? asked Fitz.

No, Lord. We took the road westward and came up through Redridge to avoid the king's allies in Tewsbury. We heard that Marshal-General Valmar was to lead the army up through Uxley, then to Tewsbury and west along the northern road.

And the rebellion? What do you know of it?

There are stirrings of rebellion in Wickfield and Mattingly. It is said even Hawksburg plotted against the king, though we only have his word for it.

Valmar is a ruthless man, said Fitz. I fear he will use his army to exact personal revenge for imagined slights.

What shall we do, Lord? asked Sir Gareth.

Let us retire to the map room, said the baron, and there, perhaps, we will find clarity.

He led them through the village, heading toward the inner Keep. They were about to enter when Sir Rodney halted suddenly. He stopped at the inner gates, a look of wonderment on his face as he stared at the broken portcullis.

What happened here? the aged knight remarked.

Albreda, explained Fitz.

The metal is twisted and broken, observed Rodney. He turned his gaze once again to the druid, You are very powerful, my lady.

I know, she replied, and yet why, I wonder, do men always find it surprising? Can a woman not wield immense power?

I meant no offense, he reassured her.

And I have taken none, Sir Knight. I am merely amused. Come along, we are almost at the Keep itself, and the baron will have fine wine waiting for us.

I will? said the baron, almost chuckling.

Of course, Richard, what else would you have for such old friends?

Very well, I'll call the servants.

It turned out to be unnecessary to call anyone, for the faithful retainers of Bodden Keep had seen them coming. The entourage made their way to the map room, where wine waited for them

Here we are, said Fitz.

Just like old times, remarked Sir Rodney. I see little has changed, Lord.

I'm afraid much has changed, corrected Albreda. Richard has lost his daughter, and the tyrant of a king wants him dead. Perhaps you enjoy this situation, Sir Rodney, but I get little entertainment from it.

My apologies if I have offended you, Lady, said the knight once again. I merely meant-

I know what you meant, said the mage, and I know you mean well, but these are tumultuous times, and we have much to do.

Yes, well, interrupted the baron, shall we continue the discussion?

Everyone gathered around the table where a map of Merceria had been laid out.

We are facing an uncertain future, started the baron. As Albreda has said, the king is coming for us, or at least his army is.

Someone chuckled.

You find something funny, Sir James? asked the baron.

No, sorry, my lord, but I was just thinking of our new king. I doubt anything would convince him to command an army.

I might remind you, continued the baron, that he was with the army at Eastwood.

Yes, my lord, though he had little to do with its command. I believe it was you, was it not, that controlled the army?

It was not, answered Fitz. Admittedly, I dealt with the army of the Earl of Shrewesdale and Gerald Matheson lead the other half. The overall command of the army fell on the shoulders of Princess Anna.

The room fell silent for a moment.

She shall be sorely missed, said Sir Gareth.

Indeed she shall, added the baron, but now we must consider our future and make plans.

What think you, Sir Rodney? said Fitz.

I think we should go on the offensive, Lord, replied the aged knight. If rebellion truly is building in the north, perhaps we can fan it into an open flame.

An interesting idea, replied the baron. I shall have to think it over. In the meantime, gentlemen, I would suggest you see to your men and then get some rest. You've had a long ride, and no doubt you are weary. We'll reconvene in the morning and see what we can come up with.

They all filed out of the room save for Albreda, who remained by the window, gazing east. Fitz saw the other knights out then turned, surprised to see her still present. Something troubling you, Albreda?

She kept staring out the window as she replied, Something's wrong.

You suspect a trap from these knights?

No, it's not that, I'm sure they're quite devoted to you. No, it's something else. I am troubled by my visions.

How so? he asked.

I was sure that Beverly would survive all this, she turned, casting her arms about the room. She should be here, right now, helping us plan this. I saw it.

The baron moved over to her, placing his hands on her shoulders, looking directly into her eyes. Beverly's death has greatly pained me, but we cannot undo the past. Perhaps your visions are untrue, or you have somehow misread them. Could it have been a vision of the past?

No, implored Albreda, she was here, talking with you, holding Nature's Fury.

The hammer? How could that be possible? Aldwin only completed it after Beverly's death.

How indeed? Albreda mused aloud.

THREE

Queenston

WINTER 961/962 MC

Dame Beverly Fitzwilliam, Knight of the Hound, opened her eyes to see the small hut she had slept in, and briefly wondered where her hut-mate, Hayley Chambers, was. The furs on the other sleeping mat lay undisturbed, and it was then she remembered that the ranger had been sent south, on a scouting mission to Kingsford.

The knight let out a deep breath, watching it frost in the cold morning air. All she wanted was to sink farther into the furs that made up her bed, but duty called. She reached out to the pile of clothes beside her and pulled her gambeson under the furs, the better to warm it up before putting it on. The sounds of the camp crept through the thin walls; the snorting of horses and the hammering of iron echoing as the smiths went about their work.

She finally braved the frigid morning and stood, climbing into her clothes as quickly as she could. Looking around, she chose to leave her armour in her hut, but strapped on her sword as she stepped out into daylight.

Queenston had been a camp when they left, yet now it boasted more than two thousand individuals. The bulk of those were from Weldwyn, for King Leofric had sent an army of 'volunteers' to help in the struggle to rid Merceria of the shadow behind the throne. In addition, Princess Anna had promised free land to any farmer willing to make the journey. Now, the large numbers of commoners who had arrived were preparing for the spring thaw as they readied their farms.

It was, for all intents and purposes, a town, though the buildings were cruder than most within the kingdom. She took it all in, relishing in the vitality that the village now held, reminding her of the people back in Bodden.

She made her way eastward, toward Royal Hill, the mound of earth beneath which sat the ancient flame portal. At the exit to the cave, the Dwarves had built the first stone structure, and this had become known as the Manor House, though it was little more than a single room.

Wanting to check in on her horse, she made her way to the pasture. Lightning saw her as soon as she cleared the stable master's hut and trotted over to her, nuzzling affectionately. She was rubbing the great horse's head as she heard a voice call out.

Bev, good to see you.

She turned to spot Hayley, her horse covered in snow and mud, trotting towards the pasture. When did you get back? she asked.

Early this morning, the ranger replied, I've been up with the princess.

I'm on my way up there shortly, said Beverly. Anything exciting to report?

Give me a hand with my horse, will you, and I'll tell you all about it, she said, dismounting.

You look tired, Hayley.

Exhausted. It was a long ride, but well worth it. Kingsford is in revolt.

What makes you say that?

"I was down there and saw them flying a red flag. I didn't go in, of course.